I Am the Son of Shooting Star
"......Ah."
Inside the truck. Ha Ohu, who had reclined the passenger seat all the way back and was hiding in the darkness, listening to the interview noises outside, let his mouth fall open.
Is she for real?! Ha... damn it, she takes after Mom so I can't even curse properly...
Ha Ohu squirmed, trying to crumple his body deeper and hide lower. But outside, dozens of reporters were already pressing their noses against the truck windows, popping flashes and banging on the glass.
"Ha Ohu-ssi! Is it true you've awakened Shooting Star-nim's ability?!"
"Have your feelings changed since your mother's death? Just one word, please!"
Flashlights pierced through the windows, stabbing at Ha Ohu's eyes. The malicious comments from communities before and after the funeral echoed in his ears like tinnitus.
No... if I go out, that same hellish dogpile will start again. They'll trash Mom again based on my looks. I can't go out.
As Ha Ohu fumbled in his pocket for his smartphone to activate the emotional control hypnosis, "Master."
Ayoung Park, seated in the driver's seat, spoke calmly.
"It's already too late."
"......What?"
"The reporters' attention has shifted here because of Han Eunbyeol-ssi."
Ayoung gave a cold sidelong glance at the reporters tugging at the door handle outside.
"If you don't open this door and step out confidently right now...... they'll spin malicious headlines tomorrow morning—or in ten minutes on breaking news—like 'Shooting Star's son cowers in fear inside truck' or 'acceleration ability awakening hoax controversy,' butchering you even more miserably."
"Haa...... fuck, seriously. That damn bitch Han Eunbyeol."
Ha Ohu let out a hollow laugh, spitting rough curses at Eunbyeol for the first time. Then he took a deep breath.
Click.
He yanked the passenger door handle roughly.
"Wha—huh?! Door's opening! He's coming out!!"
"Camera on!! Flashes!!"
Clunk—.
The door slowly opened, and Ha Ohu's figure began emerging from inside the truck.
"Questions! Ha Ohu-ssi! When did the awakening—......"
The reporter who thrust the mic first choked mid-sentence upon taking in Ha Ohu's appearance.
"......."
"......Huh?"
The barrage of flashes and reporters' shouts cut off in an instant.
All the reporters remembered Ha Ohu from afar during investigations after Shooting Star's death—snapped secretly and spread on communities for mobbing fodder. In their memories, Ha Ohu was a grotesque, morbidly obese piglet with double chin sagging to his neck and a belly bulging like a pregnant woman's, jiggling grotesquely.
But now.
"I-is that...... really Ha Ohu......?"
Through the torn short-sleeved T-shirt smeared with sweat and bloodstains, the flab that used to jiggle had been replaced by solid, thick slabs of muscle, exposed raw.
His shoulders were 1.5 times broader than an average person's, with trapezius muscles menacingly bulging from neck to shoulders. Having endured Last Moment training and fully transformed into 100kg of compressed muscle, he revealed himself.
The reporters were overwhelmed by the fact that the Ha Ohu they knew had become this macho... hero-like body in such a short time, swallowing hard without daring to even press the shutter.
In that suffocating silence, Ha Ohu swept back his wet bangs with a blood-crusted hand, staring straight into the frontmost camera lens with an expressionless face.
And in a voice drier and heavier than anyone's, he spat out flatly,
"Yes. I am Shooting Star's son."
That one sentence became the fuse.
"Woooaaahhh!!!"
"Shoot!! That's the money shot!!!"
Shattering the silence, shutter sounds and cheers dozens of times louder flooded the checkpoint at dawn.
The hero who had hidden in the shadows of the lights finally took his heavy first step into the world's center.
The next morning, every major portal site main page in Korea, SNS, and even the Hero Association's unofficial community server were exploding, on the verge of crashing.
The planned narrative of former villain Nyaistringer and underdog aspirant Han Eunbyeol's tearful debut got buried. Headlines devouring all issues plastered the internet.
Public reaction had flipped.
The netizens who had mobbed and cursed him as fat and ugly just days ago vanished.
The public is cruelly obsessed with looks and narratives. The world was boiling over with frenzy and praise for the birth of a macho hero who endured his body breaking apart to save innocents, emerging bloodied.
And at the moment those explosive reactions poured in.
In the A-rank secret training facility.
"What the hell were you thinking acting on your own like a maniac, nya!!!"
BAM!
Nyaistringer's shrill yell echoed through the training hall.
On the mat, Han Eunbyeol—who had confidently grabbed the mic yesterday—knelt on both knees, hands raised high in penalty stance. Ahead stood Ha Ohu watching with arms crossed, and Nyaistringer fuming like she might spark electricity any second.
"I laid out the perfect media play script! Why'd you drag our master out in front of cameras without orders! Didn't you see master puking his guts out last night from the mental hit, nya?!"
As Nyaistringer jabbed a finger at Eunbyeol's forehead and barked, Eunbyeol hunched her shoulders, stealthily checking Ha Ohu's mood.
"B-but......"
Eunbyeol replied in a crawling voice, packing her grievances and sincerity tight.
"We only helped evacuate outside, but the one who really risked his life fighting inside was you, sir...... How could I steal your credit and lie? And......"
Eunbyeol's gaze dropped to the floor.
"Seeing you...... save everyone and then crumple up hiding in the truck...... it hurt my heart so much, I hated it......"
Eunbyeol couldn't bear that the heir to her idol Shooting Star's blood—having proven his hero credentials—was forced to skulk in the shadows like a rat.
To that childish plea, Nyaistringer naturally,
"Haa, what to do with this inflexible brat, nyang!"
clutched her nape.
But Ha Ohu's expression, listening quietly, had strangely softened.
Honestly, until opening the truck door last night, he'd wanted to smack Eunbyeol. But result-wise, her solo act flipped him from mobbed trash to sacrificial macho hero, a massive win.
No one would mock him as a fat piglet now. His mother's honor elevated even higher.
Results are good, no reason to stay mad.
As Ha Ohu opened his mouth to tell Eunbyeol to lower her hands,
Screeech—!
The training hall door opened, and Ayoung entered briskly, hugging a stack of document binders.
"Everyone's gathered."
Ayoung set the documents on the table, her voice subtly excited as she delivered the news.
"Unexpected, but...... it turned into a blessing in disguise. Public opinion reversed to unprecedented levels. Association servers are crashing."
Ayoung glanced at the three in turn.
"Leveraging this support and your proven rescue record from Bupyeong yesterday, I've mobilized all my authority."
Ayoung opened the binder on the table. Inside was an official document stamped by the KHC Association Chairman.
"Unmarked Crew members here."
A faint smile played on Ayoung's lips.
"All three of you will undergo KHC's special hero ranking evaluation for official hero licenses. Pass, and you'll become specially appointed official heroes recognized by Korea."
At the same time, in the KHC Headquarters hero lounge welfare facility.
Triple Axel, having pulled an all-nighter handling Bupyeong Station aftermath, sat on the sofa gulping hot black coffee.
"Haa..."
On the table loomed a mountain of apology reports for excessive force and property damage still needing writing. Headache throbbed at the thought of the excuses he'd delayed.
But a smile hung on his lips as he watched the TV.
On the news screen, Ha Ohu emerging bloodied. Seeing that sturdy figure, Triple Axel set down his pen momentarily, lost in distant memories.
20 years ago. As a rising junior hero, striding battlefields as Shooting Star's reliable senior.
"S-Sara-ssi...! After patrol today... if you're free... want to grab dinner? I know an amazing pasta place."
Finally mustering courage for a dinner invite, but lacking the guts to step further, remaining just a good senior waving her off—those fresh, aching moments.
Then one day, Sara abruptly retired and vanished like smoke.
Triple Axel had scoured Korea's back alleys and errand centers half-mad searching for Han Sara.
And after long pursuit, he finally met the retired Sara.
But.......
It's weird.
Triple Axel fiddled with his coffee mug, furrowing his brow.
He'd definitely met Sara. But strangely, what they talked about that day, where she lived—specific memories fogged like mist.
Only her bright smile saying, "Senior, I'm doing well. So happy," and his relief turning away remained.
And 20 years later, realizing that "happy" smile had been a tearing scream.
When news hit of her ending her life after 20 years of domestic violence and violation.
Triple Axel lost his reason completely.
Even after her funeral, unable to contain rage, he stormed villain hideouts alone, grinding wanted criminals' flesh from bone with his drill arms.
The piled apology reports were the price for that day he lost it and blendered villains.
"......Still."
Triple Axel flicked aside a report sheet, eyes back on TV's Ha Ohu.
Sara's son, whom she risked life protecting. Saving people oblivious to his body shattering with her ability.
And he'd arrived one minute early in his direst moment, saving the kid's life.
All-nighter fatigue and backlog vanished.
But relief was brief.
"What a shame. Could've gotten Shooting Star's genes and Triple A's genes at once."
The coat-wearing woman's words from the underground mall last night resurfaced.
She clearly coveted Shooting Star's genes—Ha Ohu's ability.
Time for me to step up.
Triple Axel slammed down his empty mug, resolving firmly.
Sara. Your sole legacy...... I'll protect your son.
He'd hunt that woman targeting Ha Ohu's life, uncover her identity, rip her apart.
Staring at the backlog, new mission burned in Triple Axel's eyes.